There are some words in the English language that convey profound meaning through their sheer ambiguity. Assclown is one of them.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Stocking Stuffers

There is a certain satisfaction that can only be realized from doing a job yourself. A rewarding sense of accomplishment is provided by using your own two hands and the proper tools to complete a task. That's why I wasn't terribly suprised when I found this picture of a pair of Do-It-Yourselfers in the 11/2/05 edition of the Baltimore City Paper. (Pay particular attention to the purple "coffee table" in the bottom, right corner.

To be accurate, the article was extolling the reader to ignore the subject and focus on the artistic qualities of the photography in Sex Machines by Timothy Archibald. I've never been one to allow cultural considerations to impede as I wax sophomoric and I doubt I'll start today.

I was at work when I saw the article. After careful consideration, I rounded up several coworkers to provide an engineering critique:

Engineer1: "We could definitely do this. But what's up with that handle? That's got to go."

Engineer2: "We'll leave the handle as an option so we can crack the Amish market. Otherwise, we ought to replace the handle with a Variable Frequency Drive and an eccentric rotor.

Engineer 3: "Yeah, we'll control the VFD with a PLC that can also run the robotic spanker."

Engineer 1: "And if we couple two of them side-by-side, we can also target the gay...Oh, shit. It's lunchtime."

Engineer 3: "Who's driving?"

Engineer2: " I don't know but no more Panera Bread, it gives Engineer 1 gas. The kind that no cubicle can contain.

Thus, a concept that most likely would have evolved into the first Sex Machine capable of lunar landing was discarded for a discussion of flatulence. Leave it to a bunch of engineers to screw up a sure thing.

It turns out that the industry is undergoing unprecedented growth, as confirmed by the Belle of Baltimore . For those too lazy to click, I will summarize, if not plagiarize. She recently attended a "slumber party" which is girlspeak for a Tupperware party with sex toys, provided by a "consultant". At the party, an assortment of items, not all phallic in nature, are presented and made available for purchase. She describes creams, whips, and even a swing which she, unfortunately, doesn't elaborate on. (However, if you happen to have one and want it modified for robotic spanking, we might be able to work something out.) She goes on to say that a consultant can earn 6 figures in the 50 B/year industry.

Although the record will clearly indicate that I am a staunch supporter of female self-indulgence, this is the part that I find objectionable. Belle doesn't discuss pricing, but I get the impression that "slumber parties" are geared towards the upscale consumer. That's why I am forming a charity that will collect and refurbish unwanted sex toys. I encourage you to do your part to help underprivileged masturbators in your community by making a sizable contribution to Toys For Twats. What can I say, I'm a Giver.

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